What is God?
by Musique et Amour
Summary: Take a look inside the mind of Meuric, an inhuman Koldunist Fiend who takes a cold, cynical and scientific approach on what makes people ... tick.
1. Chapter 1

_Something different from me, inspired by a rather ... morbid mood. A thanks to my beta; SunandShadows! _

Now mind you.. this is NOT Phantom as I've been writing lately. The main character, Meuric, is inhuman. You'll be hard pressed to find any redeeming human qualities. He isn't cruel for the sake of being cruel, or for pleasure. It's all for psychology, and psychoanalysis, in which he has a cold, cynical and detached interest.

* * *

What is God? 

Who is God?

I've often asked myself these questions. So simple. So easily answered. Or are they? There are ways to look at things; subjectively, and objectively. Opinions are taken and given in the same discretion.

At any rate, this is not why I've decided to speak to you. I wish to speak of my life, and how I came to be what, and who I am. Don't look surprised, childe. Come, sit. Savor a drink from my servant. She is of... priceless specimen. I shall start with my natural birth instead of my... Spiritual birth, if you so wish to hear. You do? Excellent.

In the rich countryside of Romania I was born, long ago. Long before you, long before your own sire. And even long before your sire's sire was semen staining his mother's skirts. Mother loved me dearly, though father cursed the day I was born. I was... different, you see. Not different because of the color of my eyes. I wa–... hm? My eyes? Oh, yes, now they're a rather affluent blue, aren't they? No? Oh yes, they're green. Well, my eyes during my birth were rather contrasting. One, a rather dark brown, the other a pale, almost translucent green. But my eyes are of little importance. It is how I was born. Like now, I was neither male, nor female. But both. Does that surprise you? I hope so. It sure did surprise my parents. I was unnatural, according to my father, a spawn of a demon. I remember being dropped as a child. Often now you hear jokes about such things, though if I even so much as hear a chuckle from you I shall rip your spine from your left nostril. Not your right, your left. And yes, there is a difference.

I grew up slowly, my bones as brittle as crystal. I had little to no education. And seven other siblings before me. At least seven living ones. My mother lost perhaps five other kids within childbirth. Hm? Yes, it was a lot of children. Nowadays you have women having perhaps one, two. Then, you had to have numerous children to help with house work, farming and such. Well, that's the way I saw it anyway. Also, back then, none had contraceptives. I was always teased, taunted, struck, and badgered. Though I paid them no mind. No mind at all. Each name I took to stride, they didn't bother me. Freak, demon, it, beast. So on so forth. It never ended. Well, not until my third eldest brother accidentally slipped and fell on a gardening tool. ...Did he actually fall? Good question. Let me elaborate. Since I slammed a hoe into his cranium. Better?

I remember not only his cries of pain, the light fading from his eyes, but the whole death of my blood. I enjoyed watching his blood spill upon the freshly turned soil. I took a small tool to his skull, studying the cracked fragments. Safe to say I was rather annoyed when I as drug from the scene. Ah. _C'est la vie._ But here I am, chasing rabbits, going away from what I really wished to speak about. How is your drink there? Still warm? Ah, by all means, refill your glass.

Somehow, some way, one had seen my fascination with my brother's death, and watched me since. I was... hm, five I believe. Yes, five, when I destroyed that worthless piece of flesh. How I wish I had my crafting abilities back then. I would have loved to seal closed the mouths of the annoying youths. Yes, I did say that I didn't let it bother me didn't I? Cease using my words against me, I just may get annoyed.

He came to me during the night, you see. A man of most intimate nature. What do I mean by intimate? Ah, yes, you are still young. You still think upon the sexual level. I'm afraid that is not what I mean. The man, Demitri, was...irrevocably insane, yes, though he was not a pedophile unlike some men in my time. Oh yes, it happened often. Simply ask my older brother of my father. If he was alive, that is. Demitri was a priest, a Godly man, though not a God you would once savor. He was... absolute perfection. He was a childer of Mekhet. He stole me away in the night. I hardly believe I was missed by my parents. What happened to there rest of my family? Hm, well. You see that ghoul over there. Yes, the rather malformed szlachta? Say hello to my mother.

I grew up under the tutelage of Demitri and this other youth. The other was perhaps... ten years older than me. His name was Yveyn, if I remember correctly. And here I was, six years of age. I could tell the hate in this person's eyes at seeing me. His jealousy was refreshing, brought the first smile to my face to a long, long time. Yveyn was Demitri's ghoul, had been for about ten, or twenty years. How often Yveyn used to attempt to lie upon my behalf. Thanks to him I have an uncanny sense of deception. It was easy finding out what he lied about, and what didn't. Of course I should know considering I was the person he was attempting to tell falsities about. Demitri purchased, or stole, me a set to work upon various chemicals and elements. I had always been a scientist in nature. Though instead of wanting to know of things such as that, I took a morbid interest in death. He and I used to get within so many fights, and he bested me in most. Others, he couldn't land a strike with how dexterous I was. Demitri paid us no mind. Demitri seemed to have slaked within his interests concerning Yveyn. Truly, I do not believe the ghoul much liked this. Did I care? Not a bit.

I was made his ghoul upon my eighth turning. Young, yes, though it was worth it. I was a child still, innocent, or though people thought. It was easy bringing victims to their demise at the hands of my dark Master. Often I would dress as a little girl, or a boy. It didn't matter. I was both. Where Yveyn took his interest within the magics of the Tremere, I found myself drawn to the lore of Kupala. You've no knowledge of Kupala? Interesting. Let me chase another rabbit, briefly.

You see, Kupala is seen as a demon spirit. One that fought the Lupines long before Caine was even born. He, she... it brought these wolf shifters nothing but grief until it was trapped within the mountains which are now known as the Carpathians and Alps. Trapped until the Tzimisce released it from the earth. Those Tzimisce that did was taught the knowledge and power of Kupala and became, what most would say, kolduns. Ah, yes you have heard that word before, excellent, then you're not entirely lost. The Dracons, repulsive childer of the Dragon, hated those of Kupala. I cannot say that they received love either. Shall I continue of my previous tale? Excellent.

Such sorcery was to be taught to me, and Yveyn didn't like this at all. Yes, he had the blood magic and such, though he was never worthy of learning what I have. Jealousy is such a petty emotion. Nonetheless, this had gone on for a good number of years. Ten, twenty, I forgot how many.

"I will kill you," Yveyn always said. I just laughed. So amused was I with him.

Not only did I gain knowledge of the sorcery, but also that of my own crafting abilities. I took full advantage of my hermaphroditic state. I learned to make myself a full woman... or at least a girl considering my lack of age, I did the same with my male counterpart. Perhaps once or twice I had fooled Demitri with my alter egos. Yveyn didn't like this much. Why? Well, he had an affinity with young girls. As such I persuaded him to give away secrets that Demitri stated he would kill him for if they were released. How I remembered the look upon his face just before my sire cracked him across the face with his cane. Matter of fact, it is this cane right here. You just may be able to see a tooth mark or two in the wooden haft where teeth were embedded.

After a time Demitri regulated his feedings to me, letting me age some before I partook of his blood again. He at least allowed me to grow to my full stature of a fifteen year old before Yveyn killed me. Yes, the little bastard finally did it. Or so he thought. Little did he know my sire came home the night he slit my throat. Yveyn believed he was still in Italy. Seeing I was on the edge of death Demitri quickly purged blood from his system through the cut upon his arm and fed me his blood. I remember my embrace as if it were yesterday. The darkness, the pain, and then the rush of frenzy. I 'awoke' amidst a pool of blood and intestines. Poor Yveyn. I knew him well.

My sire wasn't very bothered by his ghoul's death, he was ecstatic, though, about having a childe, his first childe, and he was determined not to let me wander astray. He had yet to see his sire since a few decades after his embrace. If I'm not mistaken, the Excellency Vykos is in Atlanta. He taught me what he could have the Koldunic arts; I even had a little help along the way with a specter. What is a specter? A ghost, childe, a ghost. This... spirit... was Triglav the Three-Headed itself. The African Tzimisce. Hm? Oh, you didn't know there were Tzimisce in Africa? Well, well, someone needs to do their reading, now don't they? The spirit follows me now, guiding, helping in the knowledge that I deem to perfect. Why haven't I become completely knowledgeable in the path of the Koldun? I'll explain that soon, patience, please.

While I learned more of the sorcery, I also perfected my more... natural... abilities. As you see by my mother there. I acquired her after killing my father and my other siblings. It was easy, too easy. Then, just to have a bit of... fun, I melded their bodies together in the most humorous fashion. A few brothers mounted each other; my father was literally fornicating himself. Now that... gained a chuckle from me. My mother was more compliant to subdue to my whims. Hm, she was fifteen when I was born, so she was about... in her thirties or so when I got my hands on her. Yes, it was surprising she lasted for so long. She was always a healthy woman. I worked on her to become my first perfected szlachta. It took a while, a long while, mainly because during that time I was distracted by my other learnings. While I melded her flesh to her bones, turning her to a he, then back again, Demitri was in the background, filling me in on some kindred politics and teachings. He spoke to me of how mages transformed themselves into vampires by using someone of their blood. This angered me, to say the least, and mommy dearest was the target of my ire. I didn't kill her, of course, as you see, but I was damn close.

Hardly did it seem like decades had passed. I was no longer a fledgling when I finally changed my once relative to how I wished. Something was missing though, and so I went out to search for this piece of my puzzle. It was winter then, and within the mountains of Romania winters were harsh, but of course that didn't bother me any. While I was out I came across a carcass. Well, not a carcass, but many. They seemed to be sewn together. Why? I asked myself the same question until I saw movement. Under the fur and viscera was a mortal. A female after I checked further. She was starved, filthy, and half dead. I couldn't tell if she would have been perfect for that missing piece, so, placing her to my shoulder I took her home. Young is what she was, perhaps no more than thirteen, maybe fourteen. She didn't have what I wished, but instead of tearing her apart and gorging myself upon her blood, I kept her. Kept her like a pet. And that is what I turned her into. My ghouled pet.

I taught her the basics of my blood-bred ability; she picked it up with utmost perfection. Demitri noticed this, and while he didn't show it visually, I knew he was proud of the fact that not only was I an excellent student, but a teacher as well. Unfortunately, Demitri didn't remain around long after I acquired my first ghoul. I learned a few things during his absence. Attempted the embrace upon one of his ghouls, though I believe something went terribly wrong. The ghoul did not live through the ordeal, and I found something rather unfortunate. That I've the inability to create my own childer. It bothered me then, but now, I hardly even care. Lonely? Ha! Look around you childe. How could I be? I've my ghouls, and naught more.

During the time of my sire's absence I busied myself with my teaching, my own training through the spirit, and my experiments. I became absolutely fascinated with killing, torture, and studying the effects of the body. Where I wasn't able to gain the ability to deal personally with the death, and wraiths, I remained satisfied with what I did have. Demitri left behind his personal library of various notes, rituals, rites and new magics. I have these books still, you see. Old? Oh, very much so, much older than you think. Oh, and if you dare touch them, you will find out that your hand can be melded to your small intestine. Yes, I knew you'd understand. Such a smart childe.

Tell me. During your time of your unlife, have you ever just wanted to lie down for the morning, and not wake? No? Then you are the lucky one. It was a few years after I ghouled my pet when I slipped into that infamous long sleep called torpor. Depressing, really, I know. Especially when one awoke decades, no... centuries later. It was around the twelfth century when I fell into this sleep, and fifteenth or so, when I awoke. Things changed more than I imagined. I was surprised to see mother alive still, as well as my pet who had been looking over me. Though, she was now embraced. Surprising, yes I know. My own sire embraced my ghoul. I would have been angered when I first found out, but my hunger surpassed anything I knew. She had a childe of her own. Unfortunately, he was the first I fed upon when I awoke. Since then I have acquired the taste of Cainites. Did I Diablorize him? Ugh, such a crude term. Diablorie. Yes, I committed Amaranth. And, yes, I enjoyed it.

I came to find out that various things had happened during my sleep. There were now fractions of the vampiric community. The Camarilla, Anarchs, who are different from the Anarchs now. Then they were actually known as the Sabbat, though that name didn't come until later. There were also the Autarkis Cainites. Those who had rather remain out of such politics and games. Inconnu? Hm, well. Perhaps they can be placed within the same category as the Inconnu, but not quite. I had come to find out that we of Mekhets childer were not of the Camarilla. Easily understood. Whelps and fledglings that are led around by their left fang by elders, pretending to be human. Feh. Disgusting. We set out to reclaim what was ours, beginning with the hateful Usurpers. Over the centuries, as you know, our Sect has been claiming city after city. Infiltrating when needed. I, being what I am, have accomplished such feats. I could go on about that, though that would give out much too important information. I do not need you to know all of my secrets. Oh my, you are a glutton. Ah, well, I will just have mother toss her to the hounds. Mother?

Mm, yes. Where was I? Ah, I recall. You are perhaps wondering why I'm having tons of earth shipped, my belongings, as well as other items to the New World? Well. I've a friend there that decided to contact me. Seems a bit of entertainment will be gained in this new endeavor. Luck? No, no. This will not be luck, but plain, unadulterated skill. In the great words of Yoda. "There is no try, only do." And so I shall...

* * *

_Glossary For Those That Aren't White Wolf Inclined _

Szlachta- A war ghoul. Where ghouls are one person bound to a vampire through blood, the Tzimisce have a way of binding flesh and bone together, making a nearly unstoppable ghoul from the parts of many, animal and human alike.

Diablorie/Amaranth - The act of a vampire draining another of its blood and gaining its power, depending on the age or generation of the victim. The higher the generation, the thinner the blood, the less power one gains.

Sabbat - The "evil" vampires, supposedly. They don't believe they should hide their true nature from mortals, who are nothing but cattle to them.

_Camarilla - The "good" vampires. A good majority are close to their human ties. _

Anarchs - Name sort of explains it. They go against the politics of both Sabbat and Camarilla.


	2. Chapter 2

_Please review the rating. There's some mild language here and, what could be, disturbing images. Remember, folks. This is the World of Darkness. Not the World of Peaches and Cream._

* * *

Now, you were wondering about the studying I had done, yes? Each of my victims I have a part of. Something to remind me of them. I love them you realize. I love them with the passion that a composer loves music, a connoisseur loves his food. They are my diatribe, my selfishness, my mutation; I am evolution in action, the survival of the fittest the natural selection, the predator minority to the herd mind.

One encounter I wish to speak of took a more challenging stance. Above all, this game I play is a challenge, the rules and the scenarios are flexible yet tantamount. To break the rules or to stray beyond their boundaries is to invite disaster and bring about an untimely end to the grand exercise.

It was August, the hunger grew stronger every hour, and often my gaze would bring discomforted looks from those whom I was staring at. I would become lost in my imaginings of the fun we could have, and the expression on my face betrayed intention. It was time to fulfill those needs or risk both sanity and sanctity of freedom.

For the first time I considered using firearms as a control mechanism, people are like dogs, show them a big enough stick and they will lie at you feet whining. I discarded the idea, as I had no desire or knowledge of such weapons, my skill lies in other fields of human endeavor, particularly medicine and biochemistry. I drove late in the evening, on a clear and crisp August night, to a place where lovers go to grope and sweat against each other in the back of their vehicles. Voicing claims of passion, while their selfish genes seek to impregnate and continue their own eternal cycle of existence.

I waited for four hours parked back from others overlooking the city, back in the shadows, just another darkened car in the evening still. The time came at 12:45 AM one car remained and it rocked rhythmically the bestial grunts and soft sounds that came from within told me that the occupant's attention was ... _elsewhere_. The Predator within rose up and struck silent and swift. It was over in moments, I used some form of sedative within twin syringes; the dose was a little large as I had more to do with them before they awoke. One is easy to control, two could be more taxing. But they were taken by surprise, and it was over before they could even separate their bodies from each other's embrace.

I took their car, not wishing to be seen carrying two bodies across the road to my transport. 45 minutes later we were in place. I had worked hard spent several weekends hammering and remodeling my basement. It was deep and it had always been that way. Now it was separated into two sections, one was my control room, with video and sound systems, and the other was what I had come to refer to as the Play Room, separated by a concrete block wall, with a steel door and two-way mirror. I set everything up, placed my guests in their positions and returned to the control room. I waited for a further 20 minutes, idly testing my sound and video equipment.

Everything was in _perfect _order.

I paused for a moment and allowed myself to view the surroundings from the victim's perspective. Awakening into a brightly lit room with a larger mirror in the opposite wall, near you and restrained in the same chair and nylon rope arrangement as you are is your partner, also awakening to realization. The shock would be the first thing to capture on film I decided. I took a moment to zoom the first camera in on the male's face, still slack and sedated. The second camera at the other end of the mirror I focused on the female.

They would find themselves seated on simple yet sturdy wooden stools each at the end of a seesaw type of beam, pivoted in the middle, yet balanced with counterweights so that they were level. Some 24 inches below the bottom of their naked feet was a steel door like that on a garage. A small electric motor was set up on the central pivot of the beam, controlled of course by myself in the next room. Why they were there would become clear to them shortly after they awoke from their drug induced sleep.

I went back to my musings on the impressions they would have upon regaining consciousness. After the initial and I'm sure instinctive struggle to break free, the questions would start. At first seek those responsible for your imprisonment, demand to be freed, check that the other was unharmed, and reassure each other that all would be well, then struggle some more, finally realize that there is no escape.

Only then would they be ready for the choice that had to be made. It occurred very much like that, he awoke first, then while he was shouting at the blank and silent walls she stirred and screamed upon waking. The tapes had been running now for 87 seconds, I calmly checked each camera, made some slight adjustments to zoom and focus. The footage was excellent, the emotion real and very raw.

I seated myself at the control console, the two monitors showed me the cameras view and I could also watch directly through the glass in front of me. Everything I had constructed over the last months was available to any person from electronics and hardware stores, builder's supplies and home improvement stores. Truly the whole was greater than the sum of the parts. Each component on its own was could arouse no suspicion when purchased, even by tracing the links of sales, even a complete list of everything I had purchased would have aroused no suspicion. That was the joy of my desecration; humanity had supplied me with all I needed to steal two of its precious jewels. I flicked the intercom switch and my calm voice broke through the cloud of hysteria that was filling the room beyond the glass.

"Good evening," I said.

The response was predictable; both froze for a moment, then she started crying and wailing, while he shouted at the mirror, terror fueling his frustrated rage. I waited for him to run out of breath and words, and for she to collapse into soft sobs. He turned his head to the young woman at the other end of the seesaw like beam. He called her by her name, made promises that she would be unharmed; he would protect her and get her home safely. This was the moment I had been waiting for, I pressed the button that activated the electric motor and it whirred into life. The door under their feet slowly ground its way back, revealing a hemispherical pit exactly 7 feet deep and 6 feet across, separated in the middle where the pivot of the seesaw beam was mounted by a concrete block dividing wall flush with the floor. The effect they had was seeing the ground open up beneath their feet. The pit had originally been dug for a spa pool, though the pool itself was never fitted.

I watched the reaction closely.

It was puzzlement, there were no fierce creatures waiting to leap up and snap at their toes, no crawling insects no gleaming blades thrusting up hungry for their blood. Instead they saw a white powder floor, I knew the powder layer was exactly 6 inches deep, I also knew that it was Calcium Carbonate, which shortly would be flooded with water and the resulting solution would be Calcium Hydroxide, more commonly known as Quick Lime.

The fascinating properties of an alkaline solution like Quick Lime as opposed to an acid such as NaSO4 (Sulfuric Acid) is the effect it has on protein strands. If human flesh is exposed to sulfuric acid or most other acids, flushing with water will prevent any damage. A caustic solution like calcium hydroxide will eat the flesh from the bones regardless. It was in fact how I had disposed of the remains of all my special guests. The other useful thing was at some later date I would simply add sand to the mix and create a cement pad on my concrete floor with the remains permanently entombed. A clean and effective way of cleaning up after I had grown bored with the game.

Now came the fun part.

"Do you love each other?" I asked in my calm and detached voice.

The responded affirmatively, she looked up for the first time, her breath still catching on the barbs of her panic. Their invisible captor was talking to them; this was a sense of reality they could clutch, a possible avenue of salvation.

"Yes. Yes we do." he said, his voice quiet and tense.

"Tell me about your relationship, how you met." I breathed out slowly, for no reason at all, as I spoke, each word clear and clipped, totally in control.

"What d-do you m-mean?" she whimpered. I bridled, having no desire to repeat myself, fortunately he was together enough to grasp my meaning.

"We met in college. She is a history major; I'm doing anthropology. We met at a volleyball tournament. Uh... about six months ago. I guess we have been together since that weekend." He spoke quickly, trying to sound relaxed and conversational, I briefly wondered if he had studied any psychology. He trailed off into silence. The room was quiet except for the ragged breathing of the girl.

"Is your love true?" My excitement at how the game was progressing was barely held in check, I took a moment, detaching my voice from my emotions.

"True love..?" The male looked at her again; the video camera caught the warmth in his gaze, the soft smile he gave her. Reassuring platitudes that were a false mask worn by the lustful and the disposable.

"Yes, it is true love," He spoke while smiling into her eyes, distancing himself from the reality of the situation, I was about to bring it back to his full and undivided attention.

"Let's test that claim, shall we?"

He looked to the mirror, his eyes flicking, what did I mean? Oh you'll find out soon enough. The question hung in the air before him. She began whimpering again, begging me to let them go, claiming innocence, and claiming immunity from my wrath. I ignored her, he had stated that their love was true, and I was going to test it. Now anything they said or did that did not relate directly to the decision they would soon have to make was irrelevant data, and could be ignored. I moved over the control panel, hands like five legged spiders dancing over buttons and switches, the third camera suspended over the diorama was activated, and zoomed in to frame the scene. The valves were opened and the pit below their feet began to fill with water.

The reaction of calcium carbonate with water is impressive and the key to its causticity, the water oxidizes the calcium carbonate and in that state it does its magic on proteins such as human body tissues. An interesting side effect of the reaction of water and carbonate is it gives off a great deal of heat. The reaction is exothermic; this I believe was the main reason for the emotional reaction of the two suspended over the pit that had become a very hot and apparently boiling vat of milky liquid. They both began screaming the heat that reached out and touched them must have been close to scalding.

I waited till they had calmed down, she to shuddering sobs and he seemed to be praying, repeating over and over again "just let us go please just let us go" I smiled at that. It is the final tribute of the victim when they worship you. All faith and belief systems are replaced and they put you in your own pantheon. When you hold the power of life and death over someone, they in effect make you God.

"One of you is going to die." I left that hanging for a moment in the stunned silence. "You will decide which one will die and which one will live. This is the test of your love."

I sat back and watched their reaction.

He exploded in a rage. She just went totally pale, almost fainting, her form sagging against the nylon bonds. "You are fucking crazy!" His voice cracked and his skin tore as he strained against the ropes.

"Decide." I was so calm and in total control. "Who will sacrifice themselves for love?" The heat from the pit was not the only thing making him sweat. The terror in his eyes was gratifying. I checked the second monitor, raising an eyebrow as I saw her eyes were totally blank, without emotion.

I will not bore you with the tirade that filled the next three minutes, it is on tape, but his language was uncouth, his emotions were primal, his threats merely tedious.

Eventually he turned his head as she spoke softly. "Let him live," she said, her eyes still blank, her head cocked slightly as if she were listening to a far off sound.

This was interesting.

His reaction was shock. "No!" he cried.

I squeezed my hands together; this was the ultimate demonstration of humanity's primordial genes. Altruism would be shown to be a false virtue here today, of this I was sure. Now was the time to sit back and observe. They would make the rules of the game to suit them now. I was merely required to watch and enjoy the duel of souls. Perhaps even then deep inside their minds they knew the game was lost, and I had already won.

He called her by name again, speaking softly, she responded now, as a dreamer awakening from a deep sleep. "Don't listen to him," he whispered. "He is crazy; don't listen to what he is saying."

I smiled. Yes, I am crazy but I should be listened to, especially when I hold lives in my hands. "Do not mock me." I breathed into the intercom, and toggled the switch on the electric motor that squatted in the center of the beam their seats were attached to. With a soft powered purr the wire rope extended, lowering his stool on a thin cable into the still boiling pool. I allowed his naked feet to hang mere inches above the seething murk. My view through the "window" was somewhat obscured, I did not realize I had miscalculated the distance until the noise started. I waited for a few moments before I toggled the switch again. The electric motor whirred, raising his end of the beam to a level position. It was hard to tell at the time, which had screamed louder, the female or the male. Within seconds of his immersion his shrieks had become as high pitched and feminine as hers.

I have seen footage of victims of the rampant bacterial infection Narcotizing Fasciiatis, the so-called "Flesh Eating Bug." The effects were similar in this instance, though more comparable to burn victims. He had been lowered to a point just above his toes, in the time he had screamed so loudly the flesh had been burned from his feet, and the residual chemical still corroded his flesh. The microphones picked up her hysterical sobs punctuated by soft plopping sounds as the exposed ligaments of his feet dissolved and small bones dropped away into the pool. The smell must have been intense. The female was nearly catatonic in her hysteria.

It was not until later when I was editing the tapes that I could make out that she was saying, "Please stop. Please stop," repeatedly.

I activated the switch that closed the cover of the pool, and stood up. After rechecking that my gloves and head covering were secure. I unlocked the dividing door and stepped into the playroom. She was sitting still, her eyes tightly shut, he was limp and in deep shock. I didn't want the game to end this soon, so I had come prepared. Stepping behind her, she showed no reaction to my presence. I gave some thought to just where her mind had gone to at that time. I wondered if I would recognize the place. Taking a moment to pull a cord switch on the extractor fan mounted high on the wall I moved in front of them, my back to the mirror. His eyes slowly came into focus. His breathing was still rapid and shallow.

"I... am going... to kill you," he managed.

"No." I replied. "But I am not going to kill you either."

Now confusion welled up the expression filling his face like a bruise. "You need to understand," I continued. "I am merely an observer in this experiment. It is the two of you who will decide which one lives and which one dies."


	3. Chapter 3

_Again, please review the rating. There's some mild language here and, what could be, disturbing images.

* * *

_

I hoped that now, they would realize the principles we were testing here today, and would throw themselves into the experiment with enthusiasm. I was disappointed. 

"You are fucking nuts!" he bellowed.

"Perhaps." I brushed his claim aside, my patience was wearing thin. "The purpose of this experiment is to test the validity of the claims you made earlier. To wit, that you love her, and your love is true." His face glared back at me as I paused to see if he understood what I was saying. "We will test this claim in the following way. You will decide amongst yourselves who is to die today. The one whom has a greater love for the other will sacrifice his or her self for that love. Do you understand?"

"Why are you doing this to us?" the girls voice. I had not noticed she had returned.

"Scientific curiosity." I answered immediately, "I seek answers to my questions and you are part of the process."

She was silent, appearing to descend into deep thought.

"No more questions? Good. I will leave you alone for a moment to discuss your future."

I left the room, the frantic whispering started even as I closed the door behind me. I went and washed. I could feel their foulness even through the gloves. I discarded them and put on a fresh pair before returning to the room. The monitors said it had been 5 minutes since I left. I entered the room again. They both were silent and still. Watching me intently as I entered.

"So was it a productive discussion?" I inquired.

His head fell, and he began to beg. "If you will just let us go, mister, we won't tell anyone about this, I swear-"

"He needs a doctor!" She seemed to have regained control of herself. The hatred in her eyes was framed by a determined set to her expression. I smiled at her. Yes, he did need a doctor, but the only one available was not interested.

"What have you decided?" I ignored his continuing attempts at negotiation.

"You can't do this!" He was starting to get loud and desperate. Once again the girl took control of the situation.

"He dies," she said simply.

I think he was as surprised by her words as I was. It shut him up anyway. "Interesting," was all I could manage to say. He spluttered and began to speak but quickly descended into silence.

"Please forgive me for this, my love." She spoke directly to him though her eyes never left mine. "He is going to kill us no matter what, you need to understand that. You can't reason with him. He is crazy. I love you. But-"

"But you want me to die?" He laughed hysterically the onset of shock winding it up to a shrill sound. I had expected this, but not her calm reasoning. She spoke over his high, cynical laughter. It seemed the debate was at risk of becoming a common domestic dispute.

"No! I don't want anyone to die. Listen! This is real! This is happening to us - as much as we don't want it to, it is happening!" She lost her control then and started sobbing again. The room was quiet except for the hum of the extractor fan and her rough breathing. She composed herself and continued. "He is offering us a choice, a sick and twisted choice, but it is the only one we have." She glanced towards him and then looked back at me. While I kept my face impassive, inwardly I was grinning. This was beautiful.

"Why me?" he sounded like a child.

"Because I love you." Her voice was gentle; she would have made someone a good mother one day.

"I don't get it." He was retreating into a child's mind state, where the responsibilities of the world were out of his hands. It was an interesting transition.

"He has said that one of us will die. He has us trapped. If it is going to happen that way - and God knows I wish it wasn't happening - then think of the one who is left behind!" He made a small sound, which I took to be an expression of confusion.

I was fascinated at the way her thinking was going. I had not considered that death would be a preferable path to surviving without love. It seemed there was more here than I had perceived. There was nothing he could say, the decision had been taken out of his hands. In retrospect I see that in a way, he made the sacrifice. By allowing the girl to dictate the terms of the final outcome of the experiment.

He died silently. I was deprived even the experience of the final light in his eyes, it was gone even before the long knife I used slid into his throat. The girl vomited as the blood gushed out over his shirt. I waited till she had finished retching and then cut her bonds.

"Hungry?" I asked. I picked her up from the floor where she fainted and carried her through the house. Then I went to the bathroom and mixed her a drink. She started awake when I touched her shoulder in the darkness. I must have seemed near formless, another shadow in a room of shadows. I handed her a full glass. Taking a moment to watch her and consider what she had done.

"Why did you decide to live?"

She set the glass down untouched, with trembling hands, the shock of the nights' events still sinking in. Her tears still flowed. I could not make out what she said.

"Snap out of it." I ordered.

She cleared her throat. "I love him."

"No. No, you do not love him. If you loved him he would be alive and you would be dead. Dead like he is. It is his blood on the floor, not yours. Why did you kill him?"

She physically cringed under from my words as if each syllable left a welt on her skin.

"I didn't! I didn't! You fucking sta-stab-stabbed him... Oh God!" She was hysterical again. I considered a slap but instead waited for her to recover.

"You chose. You said he dies. You killed him. You! I was just the weapon."

Her face was wet with tears, she looked up at me and her eyes flashed. "Fuck you!"

I hit her this time. A closed fist that startled without breaking her jaw, my preternatural strength held back. She squealed and pulled as far back into the couch as she could, her hands on her face.

"I couldn't do it! I couldn't make him live! Not like this."

I considered what she was saying. "Dying would be preferable to killing?" She looked at me, more cautiously this time, trying to read my thoughts. "You have a serious problem, you know that?" I merely grunted and sat in a nearby chair, between her and the exit. I sat in thought for a moment. "No one will sacrifice another for any other reason than their personal survival. It is unavoidable. It is a genetic trait."

"Love isn't genetics. It's feelings and emotions... and... and... magic." She trailed off into silence.

"Its neurochemistry, and unbalanced chemistry at that," I stated, pointedly.

"It's more, so much more than that. Haven't you ever been in love?"

A score of dead faces moved through my mind and I nearly purred. "Not in a way you would understand," I said finally, regaining my composure.

The human mind is a wonderfully resilient thing, outwardly she now appeared calm and composed, though her hands still gripped each other tightly and her voice quavered. "Love isn't biochemistry, it's something you learn. I didn't learn much of it from my parents..." She choked on her dead lover's name. "...Taught me a lot on how to love someone. It's about being there for someone, caring about their well-being and survival more than you care about your own. Loving them no matter what happens. They are your everything and, in turn, you are theirs."

"You could be just like me." I said in the darkness.

She flinched at that. "Never," she said.

We brooded together in the gloom for a while. "I thought he would offer his life for yours. I did not expect that you would be the one to dictate the end game."

"I had no choice. You made this...this nightmare...and forced me...us...to participate."

"So what?"

She just stared at me.

"You could have died in his place. But you did not. That was your choice, not mine."

"Some choice," she said quietly. I shrugged, a wasted gesture in the dim light.

"Maybe," I said, "But it was the choice you made."

"It had to be this way,"

"Did it?"

"Yes. I have lost the man I love. I am responsible for his death. I could never ask him to go through this kind of pain."

"How do you feel?"

She sighed deeply. "I'm tired. So very tired."

I nodded. "Drink up," I said. "It's time to go."

She picked up the glass, staring at it like a lab technician observes a new sample. "What is it?"

"Just something to make all this go away. Quickly and painlessly." I replied.

She drained it in one long choking swallow. Tapping the bottom of the glass to get the last dregs. I sat impassively as she sank back against the cushions.

"You didn't win," she said with her last breath.

I did not get to see the final light in her eyes. It was not necessary; she had already shown me so much more. I carried her back into the Playroom and a few moments later I slid both bodies into the pool.

I am the cleansing plague. I am life and death.

Fear me for my words? You should. Ask yourself the questions I stated before.

What is God? _Who_ is God?

The answers are simple.

I am a Tzimisce, and_ I_... am God.

* * *

_Tzimisce - One of many clans of vampires. Tzimisce are considered the Fiends, one of the most feared clans. They have the ability to manipulate flesh and bone as if it was clay. That's just one of their abilities._

Depending on how this fic is taken Meuric may make a return in the next I already have written out. 


End file.
